On Monday, my board certification arrived. I ripped open the envelope with a “Do Not Bend” sticker on the outside, a thick piece of cardstock sliding out. I sat at our kitchen table, holding my certificate, waiting for it animate or something. It didn’t, so I left it there for further consideration in the afternoon. After lunch, I was there staring again at its rolling calligraphy and emblazoned title, “The American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology, Incorporated 1934”. This is pretty cool, I thought. It denoted further, “Ryan Fightmaster, M.D. was certified in Psychiatry on September 12, 2022 as a Diplomate of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology”. I’m now a diplomate, I pondered. At the bottom it’s signed by the Chair, Vice-Chair, President, Secretary, and Treasurer.
Still sitting there considering its significance, I wondered what my high school self would think. Priorities being family, football, and fishing, in that order, he’d probably laugh and ask what happened. This got me thinking about how lost I’ve been for stretches, particularly in my twenties, and how life was simpler before my ghost chasing started. I heard my high school self remind, Do what you love, hang with your family, and have fun. It’s that simple, and a board certification never licensed that.
Yet, as I ran my fingers over the calligraphy, I realized something: what went into that certificate I needed to understand why it’s important be who I am, live by my values, and have fun. Thursday’s An 8-Year Game of Poker for My Soul told that precise tale, moral being “never gamble your soul”. Speaking of lessons that high school me needed and received during residency, I detailed a painful accounting in Monday’s, The Vice and Virtue of Being A Nice Guy.
In choosing the specialty of psychiatry, I made that choice with heart; it was the best fit for me. I’m proud to have seen it through, and grateful to own this certificate. While tempting to classify it as a bookmark to a chapter, that doesn’t feel right. An end doesn’t do it justice; it was a rite of passage. One I can’t wait to get on the wall.
Building a life we love,
Ryan Fightmaster, MD